Screwdriver
by EmoKidSid
Summary: Of course the OC has a relationship with Rorschach, but it's more of a brotherly camaraderie than anything else. OC saves the romance for Veidt, cos we all know Veidt's a pedo. And, as usual, poor Daniel keeps getting stuck having to help out.
1. Black Math

_Wow, I hate having to title things.  
Listen to the song Screwdriver by The White Stripes.  
I dunno. It just seemed fitting.  
Hnngh. Chapter titles don't necessarily have to make sense. I'm declaring this now._

_This is the first multi-part story I've ever had an ending to. The problem is that I don't have a complete middle. Oh well. Something will be figured out eventually. I guess._

_I started out just writing a couple scraps of ideas just to get them out of my head, but it started to go a little further.  
Tried to keep the characters fairly in character, given the circumstances of the silly plot. I mean, I know Rorschach wouldn't really do this, whatever, but he does in this story._

_Also, be somewhat nice. We're only here to have a good time : )_

* * *

**.Black Math.**

Amidst cruel laughter and feigned concern, the older boys asked him what he was doing out so late. Said it was too bad he'd made such a stupid mistake, that he'd have to give them his cash. There was no cash to give though, so knives were pulled and punches thrown. James did his best to defend himself, fists flying and scoring a few decent hits, but how many were there? Five? Maybe six? And knife cuts burned. Distracting. Scary. In the end, he couldn't make it, but he'd be damned if he didn't go down without a fight.

Rorschach, shadowy guardian of the city, took the matter into his own hands, snapping the neck of the hoodlum about to deliver what was possibly the final killing stab. Another had both his arms broken, and the third had his face beaten to a bloody mess. What was left of the group had managed to escape, hopefully too terrified to think of committing another crime. Rorschach stared at the boy laying on the ground, judging how bad his injuries actually were.

"Hey. I saw you yesterday," James said, still breathing heavily. "In the newspapers."

It was better than a thank you. Rorschach hated it when people wanted to thank him, wanted to try and repay him. He decided the injuries were non-threatening after all. "Good for you." And he began to walk off. "Go home."

James managed to scramble to his feet, following clumsily after. "Alright. Done. Don't know where else you want me to go."

"Hurm."

"Hey, I know you just saved me and all, shouldn't ask for something else, but you wouldn't happen to have a couple bucks, would ya? I'm really hungry."

"Come."

--------

The door was locked. Rorschach poised to kick.

"No! Stop!" Dan had come home just in time. He ran the rest of the way down the sidewalk, not entirely confident that Rorschach would be patient enough to wait for him to unlock the door. "What's, ah.... what's going on exactly?"

"Came for dinner."

"In the middle of the night. Of course. And you brought a date this time."

Once inside with the lights on, the cuts and bruises James had received from the recent spat were much more noticeable.

"Good Lord, Rorschach! What did you do to him?" Dan asked, shocked at the boy's condition.

Rorschach didn't seem offended by the accusation. He just strolled on into the kitchen. "Saved his life."

"Come into the bathroom," Dan sighed, leading the way down the hall. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Was getting roughed up." James sat patiently, letting Daniel clean up his wounds and apply a bandaid or two here and there. "Asked him for a few dollars so I could eat and he brought me here."

Dan frowned a little. "I see."

Back in the kitchen, Rorschach was helping himself to a takeout box of some sort of rice dish. He shoved a similar container of spaghetti across the table. Excited, James made for the box, but was intercepted by Dan, who had the decency to warm up the food for his guests. Dan was afraid to ask, but as he set the reheated meal on the table, he had to know. "You're not planning on leaving him here, are you?"

"Thought about it." Rorschach admitted between (and during) bites of his dinner.

"No." Daniel tried to be extra forceful.

"Did. Thought about it."

"Oh? And what did you decide then?"

"Stays with you, gets sent to unwanted children home. Bad place. Stays on streets, gets killed. Stays with me, lives."

"While you're overflowing with great ideas, why don't you open up 'Rorschach's Home For Orphans And Runaways'?"

"No. Bad idea, Daniel."

--------

He was determined to make this work. Rorschach didn't like to be wrong. He finally decided to take off his face. It was safer to have it hidden while he was at home.

"Listen, I don't know what you're wanting in return for this" James said awkwardly. "If you were wanting to do _things_...."

"What? No!" Rorschach spat. He slammed his newspaper down on the table, apparently finished with it. No way he would be asking a boy to do _things_ with him. That was something unethical men did. Who did this kid think he was talking to? Some corrupt filth roaming the streets hoping to exchange good deeds for sex? "No!" He stood up from the table, shoving his chair into it loudly. Hit the light switch and fell heavily onto the bed.

James slept on the floor that night.

* * *

_Am I the only one who thinks that sometimes Rorschach&Daniel=House&Wilson? Yeah, maybe that's just me._

_I love "hurm."  
_


	2. Young Americans

_Yeah, I got nothin' between the last chapter and this one._

_This'll be one of the stories that's just a bunch of unrelated scenes. That seems to be the only type of story I can do._

_Have a bunch of small ideas, ya know, but there's never enough around them to write decent detailed chapters._

_Just know that Rorschach's grown a little fond of James, even though he'll never admit it, & lets him come along on his doom prophesy rounds & on city patrol some nights (provided he stays out of the way), sometimes giving him random vigilante tips. Goodtimes._

* * *

**.Young Americans.**

A second nauseating crunch, followed by a man's screams of pain echoing down the alleyway.

"_Pay_."

The man scrabbled for his wallet, because when Rorschach breaks two of your fingers and tells you to do something, you do it. "Here. Take it. Take whatever you want." He held the wallet out to James, who hesitantly accepted it, never moving his deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare from Rorschach's face. "There. I paid. Come on man, why don't ya let me go? You're scarin' the kid."

The third finger snapped, another howl. "Not why he's upset." No, James was scared because he'd been caught with some slimy businessman's cock down his throat. Rorschach had found them just as the man had zipped up, refused to pay, and started walking off.

"Hit him." Rorschach instructed. James set the wallet on the ground (minus the money it used to hold) and punched the man in the jaw. Ignoring the cries of protest, Rorschach said, "Keep wrist straight. Show me." So James socked the man once more, doing his best to keep his wrist stiff. Rorschach nodded. He dropped the slimy businessman and turned his attention on James, smacking him hard across the face, and once again for good measure. He was furious, breathing hard, and he raised his hand to strike another time. James tried hard not to cringe too bad (he wasn't pathetic scum and he wasn't a little boy; he would handle it and prove himself) and waited, but it never came. He gingerly held his stinging cheek as he walked behind Rorschach down the street.

They walked to a familiar building. Rorschach pounded on the door. Then again, when it wasn't promptly answered. He was seconds away from kicking in the lock when the door opened.

"Rorschach. What are you doing? It's after three in the morning," A very tired looking Daniel scrubbed a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

"Kid needs job," Rorschach informed him. "Ask Hollis."

"What, right now? This _really_ couldn't have waited?" Dan asked uselessly. "He's not old enough to hold a job anyway." Silence. Dan sighed. "While we're all here, do you want something to eat? I'm not answering the door again until noon, and you're not breaking in."

"Must be going. Need to have talk." Rorschach started down the steps. "James. Come." James cast an apologetic glance toward Dan before doing as he was told. They continued on quietly for several minutes.

"I was only trying to help," James offered. It was the truth. "I've asked all over the city for any kind of work. They all say I'm too young." Having a talk with Rorschach was frustrating. "We need food, you know. Need to actually eat things. And pay the rent."

"Our mother was a whore. Will not follow footsteps." Upon reaching the alley behind their building, Rorschach ducked into the shadows and emerged again with his mask on, tucking his face into the pocket of his coat. This filthy redheaded mess of a man was still Rorschach to James. The boy didn't know his friend's first name (as far as James was concerned, the birth certificate read only "Rorschach"), but he knew the last name was Kovacs. The landlady was always yelling it. So in his head, he abandoned his old name and re-christened himself as James Kovacs. He hadn't let Rorschach know about this.

"Odd jobs, James."

"It _is_ a rather odd job," James replied quietly. There was no humour in the statement.

"Not what you told me." The two climbed the stairs and entered the apartment. "Figured as much. Had to go find you."

It wasn't as if James was proud of what he'd done for a few extra dollars. Far from it. He _hated_ it, but it seemed to him his only option. Money was tight ever since Rorschach had been fired from the clothing shop. (Apparently, employers don't appreciate it when their workers accidentally sleep through shifts due to late night crime fighting. Funny, that.)

Not that they'd lived extravagantly before, but it wouldn't be long before the landlady came hammering at the door shouting _"Kovacs! I know you can hear me in there! You gimme the rent or you get the hell out!"_ James thought maybe she _wouldn't_ be heard. Maybe she'd open the door to find two emaciated bodies. His stomach growled and he wished they'd grabbed something to eat at Daniel's.

Rorschach glared disapprovingly for a long time. James continued to feel more and more ashamed. He unsuccessfully tried to preoccupy himself, wanting to ignore that scrutinizing gaze. Couldn't concentrate on the articles in the newspaper, like someone was reading over his shoulder. Doing the crossword was out of the question. 24-down. "Close noisily" was the clue. And all James could focus on was Rorschach standing on the other side of the table, burning holes in him with that angry, unmoving stare.

"I won't do it again. I promise I only wanted to help. Didn't know what else to do." It was clear he was legitimately upset and genuinely remorseful, and in a moment of desperation, he embraced his friend tightly, nuzzling against his neck. "Please, Rorschach, I'm sorry. Please forgive me?"

Rorschach had gone entirely tense. He patted a tentative hand against his assailant's back once or twice, trying hard to muster up some sort of affection. Or most likely he just wanted this moment over and done with. Whatever would speed it along. "Fine. It's.... fine."

"Thank you." James looked up at a very uncomfortable Rorschach and grinned, setting his hand on the back of his friend's head to pull him closer, and pushing their lips together.

"Hrrm?" Rorschach turned his head away, scowling. "Stop that!"

James laughed. He tugged playfully at the red hair, grimy and thick and stiff from sweat and days without washing. "Go take a shower." He went to sit outside while the air was still cool, leaving Rorschach to fume by himself.


	3. Edge Of The World

_Listen to the song Edge Of The World by Faith No More. It very nearly fits._

_Rating's gone down cos I decided not to go into detail with the sex._

_Also, this has to be movie-verse Veidt. It just has to. _

* * *

**.Edge Of The World.**

"Veidt. Watch him. Likes to get into trouble. Going on patrol."

"It's nice to see you too, Rorschach. Shall I just clear my evening schedule for you then?"

"Sure. Thanks." Rorschach left the room, leaving the other two standing in silence for a few moments. There would have been no use arguing with the man if he _did_ give the opportunity.

"Well then," Adrian broke the silence. "You must be Rorschach's new friend I've heard about. Forgive me, what was your name again?"

"Uh, James," the boy answered. He offered his right hand, which Adrian shook, pleased with the boy's manners. "Listen, Mr. Veidt," James shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry about this. You don't have to babysit me, really. I'm just fine heading back home and waiting there, really."

"No, you listen to _me_," the older man began. "You are more than welcome to stay here. And there's not going to be any of this 'Mr. Veidt' business. Please, call me Adrian."

"Yes sir," James smiled a little. "That's the same thing Mr. Dreiberg tells me when I forget to call him Dan."

Adrian smiled back. "Are you hungry, James? I was about to finish up here and have dinner."

"Yeah, I'm getting pretty hungry." James wandered over to a display case of action figures. "Not much of a meal selection at our place. I always like it when we go bother Mr. Dreiberg for food."

"Now, you _know_ you're supposed to call him Dan," Adrian teased before picking up the phone to tell his secretary to inform the kitchen that there would be an additional seat at the dinner table. He shut down the computer and needlessly organized a few items on his desk. "Alright, then. Shall we?"

James nodded and followed Veidt out of his office. "Tell me," Veidt put his arm around the kid's shoulders, and thought of the computer disk hidden in his office containing his precious "Boys" folder. "How the _hell_ did you end up with Rorschach?"

It did sound very unlike him; Rorschach taking in some foundling. _Rorschach_, of all people. But he knew what was right and what was wrong, and he knew he was obligated to do the right thing. Knew this foundling was a good boy in unfortunate circumstances. There wasn't even another option.

James laughed and relaxed against the friendly arm around him. "Oh, well, I was just getting a beating from a group of muggers, pissed off cos I didn't have any money to give 'em. Rorschach chased them off. Maybe killed some of 'em. And took me to Dan's house, where I had my first opportunity to bum bandages and dinner from him. Rorschach told me I was gonna stay with him if I was gonna be safe. I'd wandered my way up here a while after my parents died and didn't have any better prospects. Didn't feel like getting beaten to death."

"That's understandable," Adrian held the dining room door open, motioning James to go in first. "I lost both my parents when I was just a little older than you. I'm glad you happened to stop by tonight. It's good for boys like us to stick together."

"Yeah, sure," James agreed amiably as he sat at the table. "I really hope I'm not a bother for you. I didn't even know where we were going until we got here. Don't want you to have to work around babysitting a fifteen year old."

"Not a bother in the least," Veidt assured. "I promise. I rarely receive visitors for pleasure. It's always business and meetings and things.... It's good to have your company." He made sure his guest had had his fill of a nutritious meal and all the ice cream he wanted before suggesting a tour of the interesting parts of the penthouse. "Come with me. I'll show you my favourite pet." Once again, Adrian took the boy around the shoulders and led him to a large living room area. "Bubastis, come here, girl!"

The large cat-creature slunk into the room, nuzzling against her master's leg. "Can I pet her?" James asked hopefully.

"Of course. She's very gentle."

"Hey, girl." James crouched down in front of the big cat, stroking her fur. Curious, she sniffed at his face, pushing her nose to his cheek a little too hard. James fell backwards and laughed as Bubastis nudged his side in an attempt to get him back up again. Adrian chuckled also, taking a seat in a large, comfortable-looking chair. While James and the cat entertained each other, he watched, asking about his guest, as well as offering information about himself. It was only fair to answer questions as well as ask them. He wanted to let the boy know he was a friend, and learning about each other would establish a rapport.

Eventually, the conversation slowed considerably, but the quiet was not uncomfortable. Bubastis dozed on the carpet, relaxed by the fingers stroking through her fur. James sat next to her, content with the warm housing and a full stomach. Adrian observed the boy the whole time, knowing full well he wasn't even going to try to hold back. Not when he was given an opportunity like this. Too perfect to pass up.

The mood of the evening had been a good one; light. Adrian wanted to keep it as such. "There's a television in the bedroom, James, if you'd like to watch. It would be more comfortable in there." His guest agreed, and followed.

Veidt gave James the remote and complete control over what they watched. He hung his jacket in the closet then joined the kid, sitting close on the large, soft bed. Thirty minutes went by as they watched a sketch comedy show, mostly agreeing on the parts they found humourous and the ones they found rather dull. The clock on the night stand read 10:30. Rorschach wouldn't come around for hours still.

James noticed he was being stared at. "Hm?" Never accusing, just curiously amused. He turned to his host. "What is it?"

"Mm, just looking," Adrian replied casually, reaching to tuck a bit of hair behind the boy's ear. "Does it bother you?"

"No, I guess not," but he didn't know why.

"You _are_ a very handsome young man," Adrian's thumb kept stroking the boy's cheek. James couldn't help but feel embarrassed, his eyes dropping to his hands fidgeting in his lap. "Well.... thanks...." He shrugged, giving a small nervous laugh. James was far from naive, though. He was pretty sure he had a good idea of what was happening. And with this instinct, he went on lamely, "Are you wanting to, you know, uh...." He was somewhat wary of mentioning sex, so accustomed to never mentioning anything about it.

The older man smiled slyly, not wanting to beat around the bush. "Yes." Although he did expect there might be some convincing involved. For a few seconds, James tried to weigh the situation out in his head, but it was difficult to concentrate. Well, why the hell not? "Okay," he nodded, allowing himself to be kissed.

Adrian moaned softly into the kiss, thrilled at having a willing boy in his own bed, already hoping they'd get another chance at this.


	4. My Favorite Boxer

_I want so badly to make all this a good, decent story, but it's been so long, and I just don't know if that's going to happen. So I'm going to just post the rest of what I have written, incomplete as those bits may be, cos I feel like that's what I should do with this right now._

_THANK YOU. SO MUCH. For reading, and for comments.  
_

* * *

**My Favorite Boxer.**

"New Frontiersman, please."

The news-vendor, Bernard, was a little confused. The homemade sign was certainly the same. The height was just about right. But everything else - face, hair, clothes, age, _everything_ - was definitely not the same. "Ya.... what?"

"New Frontiersman, please."

"Yeah. Uh, sure. Fifty cents." He took the dollar handed to him and picked out the change. "So your, uh, friend? How come he's not out here today?"

"A bit under the weather."

"Ah, too bad. That's too bad. How's _your_ end a'the world comin' along?"

"Don't worry. Won't be much longer now." James accepted the paper, tucking it under his arm. "You'll hold on to a copy for me tomorrow?"

Bernard looked slightly horrified. That crazy hobo had a follower. A little clone of himself, almost. "Yeah. Yeah, sure, kid. Course I will."

James nodded his thanks and walked on, holding the sign up. _The End Is Nigh._ He wasn't so dead-set on accepting whatever truth that message might have had, but he'd probably never tell anyone about that. The only reason he was out here by himself spreading good cheer was to appease Rorschach, hoping this doomsaying jaunt would lessen the man's anger.

"A bit under the weather" was somewhat of an understatement. Nearly unconscious and angry and weak due to excessive blood loss was more like it. At that moment, Rorschach was on Dan's couch (hopefully) getting some much needed rest. He obviously wasn't in that position of his own free will.

The previous night, Adrian dropped James off at Dan's by the owl man's request. Rorschach watched through the window, Nite Owl's goggles pressed over his own eyes, sure that he saw James slip Veidt a quick kiss as he exited the vehicle. "Hurm!" Suspicions of homosexuality were confirmed, and he started chewing out the boy before he even walked through the door.

There had been much struggling and many threats before Rorschach finally shut up and slumped over. He had only done _that_ because Daniel had managed to drug his coffee while James distracted him, a feat that would impress all three involved for quite a long time.


	5. The Frozen Island

_I want so badly to make all this a good, decent story, but it's been so long, and I just don't know if that's going to happen. So I'm going to just post the rest of what I have written, incomplete as those bits may be, cos I feel like that's what I should do with this right now._

_THANK YOU. SO MUCH. For reading, and for comments._

* * *

**The Frozen Island.**

James made his way towards the exit without even thinking of saying goodbye to Veidt. Things had become far too heavy for him to deal with, and his place was by Rorschach, no question.

"What are you waiting for?"

James halted at the words, standing next to Nite Owl in the doorway. It took him a few moments too long to realize what Rorschach was yelling about.

"_DO IT!!_"

"Don't!" James shouted, running as fast as he possibly could toward his friend, skidding to a stop as Rorschach blew into a shower of blood that rained to the ground. "No. No! What have you done?" He charged at Dr. Manhattan, who took the boy's distraught assault of shoves and punches as if he wasn't being touched at all. "Fuck you, Jon! You didn't have to do that!"

"I did. That was how it was supposed to happen."

"That's shit!" James screamed. "You killed him, you can kill me too! Come on, do it! Kill me!" He pulled Jon's hand up to his chest. "Fucking _do_ it! Please!"

"I won't. My future shows that I do not," Dr. Manhattan replied calmly.

"Then fucking _make_ it happen, Jon! _I'll_ tell. Tell everyone what you agreed to keep secret!"

Dr. Manhattan simply stood, staring ahead.

"Bring him back, then! You can do _anything_! Fuck you, bring him back!" James dropped to his knees, grasping at Jon's legs, begging and pleading to either take a life or give one back. He didn't care which, as long as one occurred.

"Go inside, James," Jon instructed, as if he could almost be showing concern. "You're getting too cold out here." Then he disappeared with a bright blue flash, leaving the boy to beg at the feet of no one.

And James kept on yelling at no one, hitting the ground where the super murderer stood moments earlier. He dragged himself to where Rorschach's motionless pattern lay. The shape might have been taking on the image of some demented angel. James glanced up to see Dan standing by him. "Daniel...." he moaned. "Oh, God. Daniel, what can we do?" He grabbed frantically at the reddened snow, oblivious to the cold making his fingers numb, searching for anything that might be found. "Daniel, you.... We have to.... Oh, God...." He broke down completely then. Two handfuls of blood and powder sifted back to the ground. Harsh sobs wrenched from his aching throat and warm tears flowing freely turned icy fast.

Dan kept his composure long enough to coax the boy indoors. It was no easy task, pulling James away from the gruesome remains. He was shivering violently, lips turning blue, his breathing ragged from the crying as much as the cold air. "I don't care. Leave me right here. Let me freeze to death." But of course Dan couldn't take that as an answer.

Back inside, Daniel let his fists loose on Veidt, until he could finally let himself stop and left the room. Laurie followed. James went the other way, in search of a warmer place to sit. Veidt found him after a while, huddled in the corner under Nite Owl's coat, and sat next to him on the floor.

"Shhoulda justt sttayed back in Nnew York...." James stammered, still shivering, still angry, still grieving. "Then yyou coulda kkilled me too...."

"Don't say those things," Veidt scolded softly.


	6. I'm Bound To Pack It Up

_I want so badly to make all this a good, decent story, but it's been so long, and I just don't know if that's going to happen. So I'm going to just post the rest of what I have written, incomplete as those bits may be, cos I feel like that's what I should do with this right now._

_THANK YOU. SO MUCH. For reading, and for comments._

* * *

**I'm Bound To Pack It Up.**

**_(In which we pretend that all the buildings in New York were not destroyed.)_**

"I'm really worried about him, Dan."

"I know, Laurie. I am too."

James had been holed up in the back bedroom for a few months, nibbling occasionally on the food Dan and Laurie would bring to him, barely ever speaking, hardly acknowledging anybody else.

Dan knocked at the door, not expecting a response, and not getting one. He opened the door, seeing the familiar scene of James slouched on the bed, resting his head against the wall. "James? Hey, James. I'm going to bed. Do you need anything?"

"....Hm? Oh. No."

Dan sighed as he saw the sandwich he'd prepared the boy for dinner hadn't been touched. "Alright. Goodnight, then."

James fiddled with the dirty cloth mask he held in his hands. There was some part of his brain that acknowledged the words, but the acknowledgment was faint. The door had been shut for over an hour before he got up. Most of his belongings (of which there were not many) were already in his bag. Hadn't taken them out since he moved in with Dan and Laurie. On a pad of paper, he wrote,

_Thank you for keeping me._

_I'll be staying in touch._

_JK._

The mask went into the bag, and shoes went on his feet. James opened the window to toss his bag out, following it shortly after. He shut the window as well as he could from the outside, and made his way to the Veidt building.

The doorman was relatively new and wasn't sure it was a good idea to just let some kid up to see his boss, especially at such a late hour. He was finally convinced to call up and let Veidt know he had a visitor. Seeing who it was on the security feed, Veidt instructed the doorman to let him in immediately.

All the way up to the penthouse, James couldn't quite figure out what he was doing there. Seeking comfort and reassurance from the man who'd destroyed so much? That man was there waiting for him as the elevator opened, welcoming him with a tight embrace. "I've missed you, James."

James wanted to say "_I've missed you, too. So fucking badly,_" but couldn't bring himself to admit such a thing. Despite the non-response, Adrian smiled as he pulled away. "Come in. Let me take your bag. Are you hungry? Are you staying here?"

"Not hungry. I really.... don't know what I'm doing." The bag was taken into the bedroom nonetheless. "Still can't believe all this. All those people.... and then you blame somebody else for what you did. You killed Bubastis. You killed.... him."

"_Jon_ killed Rorschach. I did not. If you're wanting to hate someone, hate Dr. Manhattan."

"I do. But it was your decision, Adrian. It was up to you in the end. You could have done something about it. Coulda told him not to."

"Do you know how many problems he would have caused if he were left alive?"

"What about me? What about what I was left with? Nothing." Of course the deaths of millions were tragic, but James would have been able to deal with it better if Rorschach were around. He would have been okay. "Would you have killed me if you needed to?"

Veidt remained silent, keeping his eyes averted. It was answer enough, but James kept on. "You would have, right? Of course you would. You got rid of your precious pet; you would've done away with me in half a second."

"I.... don't know. Probably."

"You should have done it."

"There was no need, and I'm glad for that. It would have--" Adrian could have easily stopped the fist from connecting with his jaw, but he didn't.


	7. One Of A Very Few Of A Kind

_lulz. Loved the idea of James hanging out with Blake, but I had absolutely no idea what to do with it._

_I want so badly to make all this a good, decent story, but it's been so long, and I just don't know if that's going to happen. So I'm going to just post the rest of what I have written, incomplete as those bits may be, cos I feel like that's what I should do with this right now._

_THANK YOU. SO MUCH. For reading, and for comments._

* * *

**One Of A Very Few Of A Kind.**

Not sure why he'd woken up, Dan rolled over to look at the clock. Somewhere around 3 am.

The light was on in the kitchen, and he prepared to pounce on whatever prowler might be in there. He froze in his tracks as his breath caught. Having pulled himself up, supported by one hand and one knee on the counter, the prowler was reaching up to the top shelf of a cabinet, wearing that _hat_ and that _coat_.... "Rorschach!"

"Shit!" Startled, the trespasser nearly lost his balance. He snatched a can of.... something, and hopped to the floor.

When that inkblot face looked at him, Dan decided he was definitely still asleep. Dreaming, for sure. Either that, or.... "James?"

"Sorry to intrude. Needed a snack. Be on my way." The voice was softer than Rorschach's, but still harsh. After all, what good would it do for such an intimidating figure to sound like just a boy?

"You're going to get yourself killed!"

"For a good cause."

"James, this is stupid. Don't do this."

"Somebody has to, Daniel, and nobody else is willing to. Even if I never get all the scum, at least I've _tried_. At least I would have done _something_. I owe this to him. Can't give up." He pocketed a few sugar cubes for nostalgia's sake. "Would be nice if you were out there too. Helping me. You know, two years and I've never been taken for a ride in Archie?"

--------

A while later, after much contemplation, soul searching, and long conversations (which were really mostly arguments) with Laurie, Daniel sat at Archie's controls as Nite Owl. The way he should be, he thought. It was strange seeing the image of his old partner standing next to him. He knew he'd forget. Call him "Rorschach" and really mean Rorschach, not James. He knew it would tug at his heart, but there wasn't much to be done about the past.

Laurie, on the other hand, had yet to be convinced that this was a good idea. She stood outside of the Owl Ship with her hands on her hips. "I know what Jon would say about this."

"And I know what The Comedian would say," James interrupted. "He'd call me 'Littleschach' and try to get me drunk again. Let's go, Daniel."


End file.
